


Advent: Wish

by FyrMaiden



Series: Klaine Advent 2015 [23]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Military, OC - Daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrMaiden/pseuds/FyrMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt isn't religious, but he still offers a prayer when Blaine is deployed. A silent wish: that Blaine come home safely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent: Wish

Kurt doesn’t have Blaine’s faith. He never has. He can’t bring himself to believe in anything he can’t touch, or which - at some points - has actively wished him dead. Him and Blaine, and what they have, that’s what he has faith in. Their daughter, and the bonds of family. The real and the tangible. 

His scepticism doesn’t stop his one compulsion, though. It doesn’t change the fact that each time Blaine is deployed, Kurt visits the small chapel on the base and offers a simple prayer:  _ Please, bring him home.  _ And, sometimes,  _ Please bring him home safe.  _

When their daughter was born, there had been some talk of Blaine leaving, finding a job that guaranteed his safety. They’d been serious about it at the time, but Drey is almost thirteen and Blaine is still on active duty. Kurt tries not to let his worry show, but Drey always offers him a hug on deployment days, and on missed birthdays, and when she sees him standing in front of the cooker with Blaine’s apron on, wooden spoon in hand and tears in his eyes. 

“He’ll be okay, Pop,” she says, and removes the spoon from his hand. He nods, and offers her a closed mouth smile, and she smiles back, pure sunshine, just the same as Blaine. She’s taken to straightening her hair again, and then pulling it back from her face in a severe bun anyway. But with her eyes and her smile, he doesn’t think it’ll be long before he’s telling Blaine about her first boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Her first special someone. He bites his lip, and she shoos him from the kitchen, and they eat well on mac and cheese and cinnamon rolls that they can stick in the oven. Blaine would be horrified, but Blaine’s not there. 

Drey does a lot to fill in the silence with her presence. It’s not the same, but she tries. She shares Blaine’s easy enthusiasm, talks a lot, and she sometimes takes the edge off. But he stills crosses the days off on the calendar pinned to the back of their bedroom door, counts them down until Blaine comes home. The closer the days get, the more he finds himself whispering the words at the end of each day.  _ Please, bring him home safely.  _

He’s lost count of the amount of hours he and Drey have spent waiting in lounges for Blaine’s easy smile to appear, for him to walk through the doors so that Kurt can hug him, and then check him to make sure he’s in one piece. This year, Drey brings a boy with her. Kurt had been too busy finding the perfect outfit to to argue with her, and besides, the boy is sweet. He’s been to their house for dinner once a week for the past two months. Drey’s as serious about him as any middle-schooler can be. She’s sitting in a lounge chair, the boy beside her, his hand around hers. Kurt thinks it’s probably how he and Blaine looked, once. When they were kids. 

He closes his eyes and takes another breath. Drey’s voice cuts through his pacing. “Pop, stop. You’re wearing a hole.” Kurt offers her a wan smile, and perches in a seat beside her. She smiles her best smile for him, and grips his hand with her spare one. 

_ Please,  _ he thinks.  _ Just bring him home safely. _

Blaine arrives exactly on time. He comes through the doors with his bag in his hand, and Kurt’s on his feet immediately, wiping his hands on his thighs as he tries to calm the hammer of his heart. He’s in Blaine’s arms as soon as it’s safe, his face buried in his husband’s neck and Blaine’s hands warm and real on his spine. And he knows he’s crying but he offers a silent thank you anyway, to whoever it is that has listened to him for so many years.

_ Thank you for keeping him safe for me. _


End file.
